


I Told You To Leave, I Need You To Stay

by iexpectedsportaflop (MyChocolateAddiction)



Series: Lazy Town [5]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Baking, Depression, Dual POV, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Panic Attacks, Pizza, Pre-Relationship, Social Anxiety, Suicidal Thoughts, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 08:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10760580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyChocolateAddiction/pseuds/iexpectedsportaflop
Summary: Sportacus gets a note from a not-so-anonymous person asking him to visit Robbie Rotten, as soon as possible. Robbie does not want to be visited, however much he needs it.*warning - mediocre af and way too long although i'm proud i that wrote all this in 1.5 weeks*





	I Told You To Leave, I Need You To Stay

**Author's Note:**

> Multiple trigger warnings, especially in the first couple of chapters. Check the tags for a better idea.  
> My friend Megan is usually my proofreader, but she said this was too long, so it hasn't been proofread :P
> 
> Enjoy ^u^

"I've got mail!"

Sportacus double-flipped over to the opening that less than a second before, a letter had zipped out of at high speeds. The paper was white, and featureless, and the inked lettering was black, thick, and in a consistent capitalised style. Some 'D's and 'B's were the wrong way around, and there were a few glaring errors where words weren't spelt like they were spoken, but Sportacus could read it without difficulty.

"'Dear Sportacus,'" he read aloud, "'Robbie needs your help.'" His eyes widened. "'I might be overreacting, but I'm really worried! He says he hates himself! Please, go and talk to him if you can?'" Sportacus was very worried himself at this point, he hated the idea of any sort of trouble going under his radar and him ending up not helping out with it in any way he could. "'From an anonymous person, who is very worried about their friend.'"

The 'anonymous person' was obviously Stephanie, he couldn't think of anyone else who would call Robbie their friend, and the poor spelling made it even clearer. But she'd wanted to conceal her identity for a reason, and Sportacus would respect that, and not tell anybody. Privacy was integral to many people, and although he didn't know just how important it was to Stephanie it was squarely against his strict moral code to test it.

 _Off to Robbie's, I guess..!_ he encouraged himself, grabbing a rope and jumping out the hatch of his airship. Two or three feet off the ground Sportacus let go and began sprinting off to the outskirts of town. Doubt began to set in, however, as he made his way to his destination. Was his help really the best solution to whatever problem Robbie may have? He was always so... defensive, withdrawn, rude even, around Sportacus. Maybe he'd make it worse! But he had to try to help. It was his job, after all.

He had reached the lair. Would Robbie be awake? It wasn't even eight yet, and the little Sportacus knew of Robbie's sleep schedule was that it was plain terrible. He decided to stop thinking and just knock, and that was what he did.

"Robbie?" he called, knocking three times, loudly. "Are you awake in there?" After almost a minute of waiting without answer, Sportacus was ready to leave, but just then the periscope popped up right next to him. It then shot straight back down.

"Nope." he heard Robbie call from down the ladder, muffled but hearable, "I'm not even going to come up the ladder. Don't talk to me, Sportaflop."

"Please?" he shouted down.

"Not after last time. Now, go away!"

What should Sportacus do? He was unsure. On the one hand, he'd already broken into Robbie's house a couple weeks ago, and would rather not have to at all. But on the other hand, Robbie was in trouble, and he wasn't opening up. Or maybe Stephanie had misinterpreted it, or it wasn't actually from her, and was a cruel prank courtesy of someone like Trixie. But why would Trixie want to prank him? They were friends! Oh dear, what to do, what to do. He shifted his stance, thinking over his options, when he felt some slight pressure on the sole of his left foot. Puzzled, he lifted it up, looking down. Robbie was slowly edging up the periscope, clearly trying to do so without anyone noticing. Robbie had clearly seen Sportacus's foot, as it dropped back down followed by a muffled, frustrated yell of:

"WHY AREN'T YOU GONE YET?"

"Robbie, are you crying?" Sportacus asked, concerned.

"N-no!" Robbie called. "GO AWAY!"

Sportacus's crystal was quietly pulsating. "You're crying, Robbie. I'm coming down." His voice was determined, but soft, and he hoped that Robbie had heard him properly. The hatch wasn't locked. He slipped quietly into the entrance, and quickly traversed the ladder. With a low, muted thud his knees hit the chair, which Robbie luckily wasn't in, so they wouldn't have a repeat of last time. He glanced around and spotted Robbie hunched on the ground near the disguise machine. Quickly, he brushed himself off and sprang out of the chair, half striding, half sprinting across the room towards the man.

"Please..." sniffled Robbie, "Just leave me be..."

Sportacus put on a brave face. He hated to see anyone like this, but Robbie crying was almost too much for him. But he would put his feelings aside, helping those in need was his duty. "Robbie, what's wrong?" he asked, trying his best not to wrap his arms around Robbie and comfort him, like he did with Stephanie and the others when they were sad, but he knew that would probably just make it worse. The kids were his friends, and it was plainly obvious how much Robbie hated him. It wasn't the same.

"GO AWAY!" Robbie shouted, looking straight at him for once, eyes streaming and face red.

"Please, Robbie, I just want to help you!" Sportacus pleaded. "Can I get you anything? Some cake maybe? You like cake! Anything else?"

"Ugh." Robbie wiped his face. "Some coffee would be nice. And a gun, while you're at it. Not that I have one or anyth-"

"WHAT?"

"What?" sighed Robbie. "Cake. Coffee. Some means of self-destruction, I don't really care. Then get -hic- the fuck out of -hic- my house. It's not that hard." he told him.

"Okay, no, maybe comfort foods aren't the best option right now..." Sportacus muttered to himself.

"What are you talking about? Comfort foods are always the best option!"

"No, no... Robbie, do you have medication for this? Or something?" Sportacus asked, voice full of worry.

"No, I don't, why would I, I'm okay... I'm always okay..." Robbie said, groggily. "Coffee!"

"Okay, Robbie, okay, coffee. I'll get you coffee." Sportacus was freaking out. He had never been in a situation anything like this before, but he was just glad he'd gotten here in time. Right. Coffee. The ingredients were easy to find, Robbie had very little else in his fridge and cupboard, and the coffee machine had helpful instructions 'For When I'm Too Tired To Remember' stuck to the side with too much Blu-Tack. Robbie's exquisite calligraphic handwriting was a little difficult to read in places, but it was still easy enough to follow. It ended up just as instructed, with the exception of the sugar. Robbie had written that five sugars were to be added, but Sportacus couldn't bring himself to do that. He instead used just two, and just hoped Robbie wouldn't notice. He set the cup down beside to the sobbing, pajama-clad pile of sadness that was Robbie.

"T-thanks." Robbie sat up slightly and lifted the cup to his lips. He sipped. "Of course you cut the sugar. Typical Sportadweeb. Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"

"Well, yes..."

Robbie sighed. "Now. Out. I can't stand your presence here much longer. I'm done." he said bluntly.

"But Robbie, you need help! I can't just leave you here!" Sportacus fretted.

"Yes, you can."

"No, I can't." Sportacus was as to-the-point as he possibly could be. The most important thing, in this situation, was keeping his personal feelings separate from his duty as town hero. "I know you want me gone, but there's no-one else to send. And I'm not leaving you here on your own. That's that."

"If you really do care so much, you'll listen to me. Go. Away." said Robbie, sounding nothing like his normal awkward self.

Sportacus forced himself to stay strong. Duty before feelings. Duty before feelings. "I-I know you hate me but-"

"He really... thinks that. Good job Robbie, you fucked up. Again." Robbie murmured under his breath, but Sportacus caught it.

"But you have to let me stay here with you, at least until Stephanie gets back from school. I can get her to come down here for you, she won't mind!" Sportacus told him reassuringly.

"She won't say she minds." Robbie said coldly. "Of course she'd mind. Why would she want to be here, powerless to watch me cry, instead of being outside, dancing and all that shit. She can stay out with her friends." Sportacus said nothing. "Could you, maybe, get me some more coffee? Maybe I'll feel better if I get some more energy, or something."

"But Robbie, that's not real energy! You shouldn't have more than two cups of coffee a day, and you might need some later in the day. Don't drink them consecutively!" Sportacus lectured, his live-healthy attitude coming in and making him almost ignore Robbie's condition. He obviously wasn't in the mood for all this.

"Two cups a day? Try sixteen in thirty-six hours." Robbie spat.

"What? When!?" Sportacus exclaimed.

"I can't even remember. Two or three months ago maybe? Before you got here." Robbie replied.

"How did you sleep?"

"I didn't."

"Oh." Sportacus didn't know what to say. "Well, you can't have any more coffee for at least four hours." he told him.

"Four hours? How am I supposed to last four hours on one cup of coffee and three hours of sleep?"

"You really need to sleep more."

"No. I have work to do, and I do it at night." Robbie replied.

"Why?"

"I can't concentrate during the day. Kids. Noise." Robbie pushed himself up from his sorry position on the floor to point at the speaker system on the ceiling.

"I can tell them to be quieter, if you want!" Sportacus offered.

"Quieter doesn't cut it."

"Okay, well then, is there anything I can get you, or do for you while I'm here?" Sportacus asked kindly.

"Coffee."

"No, I'm not getting you more coffee." Sportacus sighed. "Do you want me to carry you to your chair, you look really uncomfortable down there." he suggested.

"I, um, okay. But you don't have to carry me. I'll be fine." said Robbie, picking himself up. He swayed a little bit, and took a few shaky steps. Sportacus was right behind him, and luckily close enough to catch him as he dazedly stumbled and fell forward into his arm.

"I'll carry you." Sportacus decided. He gently picked Robbie up, and carried him over to the chair without objection. He set him down just as gently and smiled, weakly. He was helping!

"Th-thanks." stumbled Robbie. His tears were almost completely dried up, and although still weak he managed to hold himself up in the chair.

"It's not a problem." Sportacus smiled. He couldn't really tell, since the his face was already red from crying, but he thought Robbie just might have been blushing. Sportacus certainly was. By the moment it was getting more and more difficult to keep his feelings separate from what he knew he had to do. "So. I'm not leaving while you're like this, but I still want to check if you're alright with me staying! It'll help me, um, do my job, I guess, if you're compliant." he said brightly.

"If you're staying either way, why do I have to tell you? Not that I'm hiding something, or anything, that's stupid." Robbie responded dismissively, looking more than a little embarrassed.

"You don't have to, but it would help both of us. I'm trying my best not to hurt you, or put you out of your comfort zone, but if you don't tell me I won't know how. That's all." Sportacus told him, as kindly and softly as he possibly could, trying his best not to make Robbie at all uncomfortable.

"Oh. Okay. Um, I guess... shit, I can't believe I'm saying this, I, um, I guess you can stay. Has it been four hours yet? I need my coffee!" Robbie was clearly really embarrassed saying this, evident with his quick, sloppy cover-up, so Sportacus endeavoured not to bring it up again.

"No, Robbie, it's only been five or so minutes. Do you want to do something? To take your mind off it?" Sportacus suggested. "But nothing that'll over-exert you, okay?" There certainly was something that Sportacus would like to do, but he was pretty sure that would over-exert poor Robbie. Not that he'd actually suggest it, that was ridiculous.

"Kill myself."

"Robbie!"

"No? Okay, cut myself. That's the next best thing." Robbie suggested cynically.

Sportacus changed the subject. "Do you really not have any medication for this? How are you, well, not like this when I normally see you if you don't take any? You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, though." he asked.

"Nah, it's fine. This only happens once every month or two, and blows over within three weeks. This is the first time it's happened since you got here, that's why you haven't seen it." Robbie explained. He seemed more comfortable around Sportacus than normal, but he supposed it was because Robbie wasn't exactly his usual, socially awkward self at the moment. He obviously had bigger things to deal with right now than the sheer fact he was talking to someone. Sportacus vowed he would help Robbie deal with those problems the whole way to the limit of his capabilities.

"I guess I came at a good time then." said Sportacus. "So am I going to have to stay here the whole time, or does it get milder down the line? I'm just setting a plan out, really."

"Usually it gets worse before it gets better." Robbie answered. "And you're not staying in my house for more than a couple days. If this shit lasts longer than that, not to mention if I even make it through said shit, you've outstayed your extremely dubious welcome."

"That's fair enough, but if you're going to get any worse than you are now I really can't leave you on your own." Sportacus told him. "You're a danger to yourself in this state, Robbie."

"Just, like, take the knives out the kitchen or something. I'll be fine, I swear. I've made it this far, haven't I?" Robbie reassured. "Now, I'm just going to cry for a bit. Go do some press-ups in the corner or something, I don't know." He gestured vaguely towards said corner.

"Good idea. We don't want it all getting bottled up." Sportacus agreed. He walked as calmly as he could over to the side of the room Robbie had been pointing at. Using the wall as a boost, he pushed himself up to stand on his hands, taking a few small steps but not really moving too far away from the starting spot. As Robbie began to cry, Sportacus flinched, and almost toppled over with the shock. However, he managed to regain his composure and lowered himself back down into a sitting position. Robbie was in no more trouble than he was five minutes ago. But still, that persistent, irritating feeling of not being able to help probed at the back of his mind.

~

"Okay, I'm- I think I'm done crying for now. Surprised you waited." Robbie said, stretching slightly and sitting up. He felt empty.

"Oh, good!" Sportacus sprang up from his stretch exercise and made his way over to Robbie with a couple of quick flips and strides, feet hitting hard and loud against the metal floor. Fuck, he was hot. Robbie mentally slapped himself. He'd managed to suppress these... pointless feelings so far this morning, with help from the mask of cynical depression, and he couldn't stop now. Get it together, Robbie.

"Now what?" he asked Sportacus, looking away from him so as not to blush.

"Well, what do you normally do, when you're not feeling like this, whilst the kids are at school and can't distract you?" Sportacus asked him. "Maybe you could at least give that a go."

 _I think about you, Sportadummy!_ Robbie thought, and came a little too close for comfort to saying. Instead, he luckily said, "Well, I sew disguises mostly but you're not allowed to see them, so I can't do that." He sighed. "And if I did I'd probably end up sticking my head in the machine and flooring the pedal."

"Anything else, if you can't do that?" Sportacus asked encouragingly.

"Build machines, although that's usually at night. And bake." Robbie answered.

"Building something would probably be dangerous too." Sportacus commented. "What sort of things do you bake?"

"Cake." replied Robbie. "But I don't need any more, I made two yesterday."

"You shouldn't eat so much cake!" Sportacus exclaimed.

"Boo hoo hoo. Like that's going to stop me." Robbie said. Great, he was being mean to Sportacus. Again. And just like that, he was crying. Again.

"Robbie! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to make you cry, I'm just worried about you!" Sportacus reassured in vain. Robbie tried to tell him that no, it was his own fault, completely and utterly his own fault, but it just came out as a few choked sobs. He flailed around with his arms to grab onto something, to steady himself. One hand closed around a clump of fluff on the arm of his chair, and the other still grasped for something to grab onto. Still crying and unable to see clearly, he ended up reaching toward the other arm of the chair, which just so happened to have Sportacus's hand resting on top of it. Not noticing, Robbie gripped onto his hand and after a half-second of realisation pulled it sharply away in shock and embarrassment. He pulled himself away from Sportacus and toward the other arm he was already holding onto, scrunching himself into a ball and beginning to cry harder. _What the fuck is wrong with me?_ he asked himself, _I'm a complete, utter disaster. I should just end it, whether I want to or not._

"Sorry..." he finally managed to say.

"It's fine!" Sportacus smiled. "You don't have to apologise! All I want right now is for you to be okay. Just... do your thing!" he reassured, still smiling encouragingly. Robbie didn't say anything. He didn't even turn his head to acknowledge the comment, in case Sportacus noticed his rose-red face. "Do you maybe want to do some baking for me, if you don't need anything yourself? I know some sugar-free recipes we could try! Only if you're up to it, though."

"I'm not touching your gross sugar-free cakes, Sportastupid!" Robbie childishly screeched, muffled through the pillow his head was buried in.

"It doesn't have to be cake, I know a recipe for cookies too!" Sportacus said.

"You know what I mean. Cake, and cookies and all that shit without sugar is like..." _Me without you_ , Robbie thought, but instead retorted, "Oh, I don't know! A book without words!", lifting his face away from the pillow as he figured the blush had probably faded from his cheeks. However he felt it quickly return as Sportacus's gorgeous, gently smiling face came into view. Nope, fuck that. Robbie stuck his face back into the plush of his chair.

"Maybe we make something for the kids then? They like sugar every once in a while!" Sportacus suggested.

"They could do with some more sugar I guess," Robbie contemplated, "but what if I don't want to?"

"If you don't want to, you don't have to! But it'd be good for you to be doing something, to take your mind off all the things you're feeling right now." Sportacus persuaded.

"Well." Robbie was weakly laughing, internally. If he was in the same room as Sportacus, there wasn't even a tiny chance he'd be able to take his mind of everything he was feeling. "What would the kids want? If I need a distraction it might as well be one that contributes to those brats getting lazier." he decided.

"They all have their own favourites, but on the whole I think vanilla cake would be a good choice. We can find them after school, and give them some. They'll really appreciate it!" Sportacus cheerily told him.

"Ugh... why am I doing this? Okay, well, if you're really endorsing the baking of a cake, and if it'll help take my mind off wanting to dig whatever knife we're cutting the cake with six inches into the back of my skull, I guess I'm down?" Robbie was questioning his decision already. What if he started blushing? He'd have nowhere to hide!

"Do you want to, um, get changed then? I can go into another room." Sportacus said.

"You don't have to, it's maj-" Robbie cut himself off. "How about you go to the kitchen and start getting out some bowls and stuff? I'm out of most ingredients from the two I made yesterday so we'll need to buy some more." he instructed.

"Okay Robbie! See you in a minute!" called Sportacus as he walked off.

"Yup." Robbie replied. He knew he couldn't use his magic to get changed, Sportacus, as an elf, would sense it. He would have to get changed- he shuddered- like he used to. He developed the magical technology years ago, so that he wouldn't have to look at the scars that covered his arms and the welts across his back when he changed clothes. He weakly half-walked, half-crawled over to his piano and outfit tubes. Just the normal outfit today. He twisted the knob on the piano which controlled the volume, to play the melody needed to bring out the outfit without alerting Sportacus. Soon after, it slid out the tray below the piano and he picked it up. _Okay_ , he told himself, breathing hard, you can do this. _It won't take long, it's not going to be... fuck._ This was going to be tough.

He closed his eyes. He really, truly, couldn't bring himself to do this. But what choice did he have? It was this, or Sportacus seeing the little magic he had. If he was even remotely loyal to his elven upbringing, he wouldn't hesitate to destroy it. _So it's magic now, and never again, or normally now, and keep your magic_. he told himself. But still, he couldn't bring himself to do something as simple as taking his pajamas off.

"Robbie, are you done? I need to ask you something!" called Sportacus, thankfully still in the kitchen. Robbie said nothing, tears beginning to silently fall down his face. "Robbie? Hello?" Sportacus called again. Robbie still said nothing. "Are you okay?"

"NO!" he shouted back, and instantly regretted it. He was going to have to explain himself. To Sportacus. What was he going to say?

"Robbie, Robbie, it's alright! I'm here!" Sportacus said, rushing up to him. _That's the problem_ , Robbie thought. _I'd be able to use my magic if you weren't here!_ "What happened?" Sportacus asked.

"I can't get dressed." Robbie managed to say relatively clearly through the tears.

"Why?"

"I-I, because I can't." Robbie was at a loss. He wanted to say, but Sportacus would be confused as to how Robbie got changed every day before, and he'd find out about the magic, and- it didn't bear thinking about.

"Is it really so bad you can't tell me?" he asked.

"Yes!" replied Robbie angrily.

"You don't have to tell me then. I'd never make anyone do anything. How about, since you have pajama pants on, you can just wear those and I'll help you with your dressing-gown." Sportacus offered kindly. Robbie froze, grabbing the sides of his dressing-gown and pulling it tighter around him. This was even worse than Sportacus destroying his magic!

"No, no, no, this can't be happening" Robbie muttered to himself, pacing two steps in each direction nervously.

"Okay, well, if you're not going to get dressed, what are we going to do? We can't go out to buy ingredients if you don't take off your dressing-gown." Sportacus coaxed. "Maybe I could understand how to help better if you told me why you can't?"

"I just... I can't tell you the reason I can't, for the same reason I that can't." Robbie stated.

"What?" Sportacus sounded confused. "I don't get it."

"Okay, so," Robbie began, "There's a reason. And that reason is the reason I can't get dressed. It's also the reason I can't tell you. Got it?" he explained.

"Is there any way you could give me a hint or something? I'm trying my best to help you any way I can." Sportacus suggested.

"Okay. I'll give a hint." Robbie said. He breathed heavily, stopped pacing and stood in front of Sportacus. _He asked for a hint, and he'll get one. You can do this_. He took a deep breath, summoned every single piece of confidence he didn't even know he had and pulled Sportacus's hat clean off his head, goggles clattering to the ground. His eyes widened and he clapped his hands over his ears, shock plastered over his face.

"Was... that your hint?" Sportacus asked, clearly unable to register what had just happened. Robbie nodded shyly, biting his lip.

"I have absolutely no idea how I just did that. I need to sit down." Robbie said, almost as shocked at his own ability. He handed the hat back to Sportacus and sat messily down on the floor just under the piano, directly on top of his outfit he'd dropped there.

"What kind of hint is that?" Sportacus questioned. "And how... how did you find out?" He dropped down to pick up the goggles, then put the hat back on his head.

"Well, it's a cryptic kind of hint I'm sure. And I can't tell you how I found out. Same reason." Robbie told him.

"Robbie, if you have the confidence to do that, you have to confidence to take your dressing gown off." Sportacus encouraged.

"No, I don't."

"Here's an idea! You know when you just duck behind a wall and put on a disguise when you're away from home," Sportacus suggested, "couldn't you just do that with your normal clothes?"

"Wait, what!?" Robbie exclaimed, "You-you know about that?"

"Yeah, the magic! It's pretty complex, for something within human limits!" Sportacus was, for some reason, getting quite comfortable with the thought of Robbie knowing he was an elf.

"And... you're not going to destroy it?"

"No! I mean, the others in my clan would want me to, but if I made a habit of listening to them I wouldn't still be here!" Sportacus replied excitedly.

"I almost wish you did, then." Robbie said, but he didn't mean it. "I'll just put it on like that I guess," he told Sportacus, standing up and brushing the dirt off the outfit he had been sitting on top of, and in a puff of pinkish-purple glitter he was wearing it.

"Are you feeling any better now?" Sportacus asked, smiling with infuriating sincerity.

"I mean, I'd probably still make a break for it if I saw a hundred-foot cliff, so not good, but I'd say probably a bit better." Robbie replied. He was underplaying it. He felt much, much better than he ever had, during an episode of depression at least. It was really strange, if he was to be honest. It was likely because he was spending time with someone, and getting support, but who knew it would be Sportacus!

"Oh, by the way. The question I was going to ask before I came in here, do you really not have any cake tins smaller than that blue one? I feel like that's too much cake, even for all five kids." Sportacus remembered.

"The blue one? That's tiny! I bought it to make a jell-o dessert some point last year, I think, and it's plastic, it'd melt in the oven!" Robbie said, exasperated. 'Too much cake'? He must be joking.

"Fair enough, we don't want it melting. Well, we can choose a tin later. Let's go buy some ingredients!" Sportacus grinned.

"I need to check what I already have first, idiot. I'm not buying six hundred bags of flour if I already have enough. Actually, bad example, I know I'm out of flour." Robbie stumbled. "Whatever." They made their way into the kitchen, Sportacus instinctively moving in front of the knife rack, blocking it from Robbie's field of view. Good move.

"Okay, do we have a paper recipe?" Sportacus checked.

"In there." instructed Robbie, thumbing toward a draw on Sportacus's left. "There are a fair few sheets, but it's the third one down." he told him.

"Ah. This one?" Sportacus waved an A5 sheet that quite clearly said 'Vanilla Cake' across the top.

"Yes that one, Sportakook."

"Right. First is butter- woah. That is a lot of butter." Sportacus looked down the list. "Too much sugar, too. Are you sure we can't cut the sugar, I'd love to try some of your baking!"

"Quite sure." Robbie opened the fridge. "Huh. Good news: there's butter, bad news: it's not enough. And we'll need more for the frosting, too. Add that to the shopping list. Next?" he asked.

"Sugar, um caster sugar. Is that how you say it?" Sportacus replied.

"Yup. Caster sugar." Robbie shut the fridge and opened another draw. "I've got two and a half bags, should be fine." he confirmed.

"Eggs, it says four I think. Or is it a seven? I'm not the best with your handwriting. But it's really cool!" Sportacus said.

"Thanks, I guess. Oh, and it's a four, I've used this recipe enough damn times." Robbie replied, opening the fridge back up. "No eggs. Next?"

"Flour, but you said you were definitely out. And after that is baking powder." Sportacus informed.

Robbie peered into the draw he'd left open from looking at the sugar. "Got that."

"Next up is milk, but I used the last of that in your coffee," Sportacus said, turning his head to look at the empty bottle of milk standing by the coffee matching. "And then it's vanilla and purple food dye. We don't need the food dye, right, since it's for the kids?" he checked.

"I guess not. And yup, I've got vanilla. And here's some of that weird sugar you use in the frosting. So, shopping list is milk, flour, eggs, and butter then." Robbie reminded himself.

"Let's go!" Sportacus cheered. "Oh, and look at the time! It's almost ten!" They made their way out of the lair, and into the fields outside. Robbie blinked in the sunlight.

"Haven't been out here for three days. It's super bright. Ouch." Robbie commented.

"Three days? You should go outside every day!" Sportacus exclaimed.

"Well, I didn't." Robbie said bluntly. "Oh, and before I forget," Robbie added, "the local store doesn't do eggs. No idea why, they just don't. Maybe I'll ask some time. Whatever, what I'm saying is we're going to need to go out of town to buy some."

"Okay then! Should we walk?"

"We should not."

"How do you normally get there?" Sportacus asked.

"I drive."

"That's probably not the best idea, don't want you running us both into traffic, and I never learnt to drive myself, just fly." Sportacus said, puzzled.

"Today has been a day of torturing myself out of my comfort zone, so fuck it, why stop now? I'll go in your stupid blue airship. If you promise to buy me pizza. I could go for some pizza." Robbie decided. It really had. A few days ago he would have scrunched up into an embarrassed knot if he so much as thought about Sportacus, but he'd agreed to bake a cake, for the brats, with him, taken his hat off, and was now going into his airship. He felt quite proud of himself, really. A good old cynically depressive mood was a hell of an antidote to crippling social anxiety.

"Sure, if that will make you happy Robbie!" Sportacus smiled. "Ladder!" he called, and it flopped down from the airship above.

"Do you really expect me to be able to climb a rope ladder, Sportaflop? Because I can't." Robbie said.

"Wait here." he said, and proceeded to spring up the ladder two rungs at a time. Robbie tried not to stare as Sportacus's muscles bulged with every movement he made, but failed spectacularly. Luckily Sportacus didn't seem to notice. "Okay, grab on to the bottom rungs!" he called down to Robbie, who did so. "Up!" he commanded, and the ladder zipped back up towards the airship. He had just enough time to look down and think, _Wow. I could let go right now and be dead in what, a second? Two?_ but not near enough to act on it. So he was yanked up to the inside of the airship, dizzy and almost expecting to be dead. He collapsed on the floor and began to cry at his missed opportunity.

"Could you just... open the hatch a bit, please? We're high enough..." Robbie croaked.

"No." Sportacus answered, sitting Robbie up and making his way over to the cockpit. "I want you to know that how ever much you want to, ending your life is never the right choice. We have a cake to make, Robbie!"

"A... cake. A cake. We're going to make a cake." Robbie said to himself, reassuringly. He lowered his voice, still speaking aloud but in a hissed whisper, making sure Sportacus wouldn't hear him. "Robbie. Get your shit together. Whatever god there may or may not be has taken time out of their day to send this fucking angel of a man to look after you today. You can't just throw that away. Today is the day to look at muscles, not to kill yourself. I mean, he's obviously not enjoying it, it's not like he cares, he'd obviously rather be doing anything else, because he obviously hates me, but still, appreciate the damn view, asshole! Right, pep-talk over."

"Did you say something, Robbie?"

"N-no! Nothing!"

"Well, we're almost in Big Town, I'll set the airship down in that empty field over there." Sportacus told him.

"You can just set the airship down? Why didn't you do that when I was getting in? That ladder thing hurt, you know!" Robbie complained.

"Well, I have to be driving it first, and I didn't know to set it down when I got there." Sportacus explained.

"Okay, from now on you're always going to set it down. In case." Robbie told him.

"I can't promise that."

"But you have to!"

"I'm not making a promise I can't keep!"

"Oh you and your morals. You're no fun, you know that, right?" Robbie teased. Sportacus didn't answer, as he was busy pulling the airship to a halt.

"You can get off now, but be careful walking, it might be unsteady since we're still a couple feet off the ground." Sportacus told him.

"I'll be fine!" Robbie said, just before he took a wrong step, the ground lurched and began to fall backwards. Shit. He braced for impact, squeezing his eyes shut. Double shit. Sportacus's hand closed around his own, pulling him back up. Triple shit. "Th-thanks." Robbie said, or tried to, but in the middle of squeezing the words out he made the terrible decision to open his eyes. He was roughly four inches from Sportacus's face. He jumped back, letting go of the hand, and yelping in shock. He shot out the hole in the airship floor faster than a bat out of hell, Sportacus following after him. He ran as fast as he could, which was really not very fast, for about five seconds, before he found himself doubled over, panting in exhaustion.

"Robbie!" Sportacus sprinted over to him. "Are you alright?"

"Give me a minute..." Robbie managed to say between heavy breaths. After he'd recovered enough to speak properly, which had to have been a good minute or two- wow, he really was unfit, he said weakly, "Please don't mention that to me, or to anyone for that matter. It didn't happen."

"Mention what? Come on, let's go to the store!" Sportacus grinned, pointing to the large, green and white building that wasn't exactly far away, but definitely seemed so to Robbie.

"Walk that whole way? And you say you want me to be happy." he commented. It only took about five minutes to get there, but any length of time spent doing any kind of exercise was far too much exercise for Robbie.

"So, what do we need... Milk, flour and butter?" Sportacus thought aloud.

"And eggs." Robbie added.

"And eggs." Sportacus agreed. "Four."

"And pizza." Robbie reminded him.

"If we have time."

"There's always time for pizza."

"Well, not always..."

"Shut up. The butter and milk are in the cold aisle, third one." Robbie said, wanting to get the shopping over and done with so he could convince Sportacus they had time for pizza. They walked down to it, seeing the milk and heading towards that.

Sportacus glanced around. "Do you think anyone would notice if I did a flip?" he asked.

"If you flip in a supermarket I swear I will pretend I have never met you in my life, Sportaflop." Robbie protested.

"What if I dabbed?" Sportacus teased.

"Don't test me. I've researched far too many ways to kill myself over the years, and I'm sure some of them would work on you." Robbie glared, jokingly. "We didn't get a cart, by the way."

"We don't need a cart! I'll be able to carry it all just fine!" Sportacus smiled, and Robbie shook his head.

"Of course you're going to carry it. What else should I expect? Grab the milk, then." Robbie said, laughing, and Sportacus picked up a bottle with ease. "And the butter's just over there." He picked a pack up and handed it to him.

"Where are the flour and eggs then?" Sportacus asked.

"Turn around, it's one to the left for eggs, but I don't usually get my flour here so I'm not sure." Robbie answered. They headed over to the aisle he had pointed out, and found the eggs.

"There are a lot of different types, which one are we getting?" Sportacus asked.

"Six medium free-range. The green one." Robbie replied, pointing. Sportacus picked a carton up in his other arm. "Okay, I'm going to have a quick look to see if I can find the flour." he said.

"Couldn't you just, like, ask an employee?"

"No, idiot."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I could ask for you?" Sportacus offered.

"Right then, you can do that, but I don't see any employees." Robbie said.

Sportacus spun around, and pointed towards an aisle in front of them, slightly to the right. "There!" he said, striding towards them. Robbie stayed where he was. He played every single situation and way it could go wrong, over and over in his head, luckily none of which actually happened. After a short while, Sportacus jogged back to him and pointed to the very end of the aisle.

"The flour's just down there, I didn't see it." he said, leading Robbie over to where he had been pointing.

"Wasn't that, like, embarrassing? To have them tell you that you'd missed it, I mean." Robbie asked.

"No, why would it be?"

"How do they all do it?" Robbie said, shaking his head in disbelief. He was sure that amount of confidence was unnatural, yet everyone in Lazy Town, other than him, seemed to possess it. "Right. Flour. Get the blue bag, it's self-raising." he instructed.

"Alright!" Sportacus picked up the bag, somehow managing to carry it all. "Anything else we need to get?" he checked.

"Pizza. Never forget the pizza." Robbie replied.

"So we can go pay now then!" said Sportacus. He began walking towards the manned tills, but Robbie knew he'd need more confidence to face them than he would to grab onto Sportacus's arm and pull him in the direction of the self-service stations. And that took a lot of it.

"Not them. I'm paying here." Robbie told him, "And look, there's a free one." He walked up to it, and pointed at the item bay. "Set the stuff down there."

"Then what?" Sportacus asked, putting the things down.

"The instructions are on the monitor. I use these often enough, I'll do it." he told him. 'Scan the items and put them in the bagging area' the screen read, and he did so. Sportacus put the items into one of the supplied bags as Robbie set them down on the other side of the scanner. 'Please select payment method: cash, card, membership points, cancel' the screen now read. Robbie tapped card, and put it into the reader.

"So... is that it? That was quick!" Sportacus said.

"Yeah, I guess it is pretty quick. Now, you owe me pizza. There's a place a couple streets down from here." Robbie said, checking the time on his phone. "Just past eleven, that enough time?" he checked.

"Should be, yeah. Let's go!" said Sportacus, picking up the bag. "I haven't had pizza in a really long time!"

"You eat pizza? They have sugar in, though, not to mention it's junk food!" Robbie exclaimed.

"Well... I don't often. But you can order without sugar, or reduced, in most places I've been to." Sportacus explained carefully.

"Hidden depths, huh?" laughed Robbie.

"I guess so." Sportacus laughed too. They left the store, and Robbie directed him to turn a right. "Is that it there?" he asked.

"No shit, Sportastupid, it says pizza right there on the front. Of course it's there!" Robbie said, exasperated.

"We could have been going to a different one, you never know!" he defended.

"And why exactly would we be going to a different one, if there was one right here?" Robbie laughed. They stopped as they reached the entrance, and Sportacus held the door open for Robbie, smiling. He covered his face, hoping it didn't look too much like a face-palm, to hide the pinkness spreading over his cheeks, and stepped through. An employee moved towards him, and he began to panic, but Sportacus covered for him, smiling.

"Table for two, please!" he said politely.

The employee nodded. "Two by the window, take your pick." he said, pointing.

"Which one, Robbie?" Sportacus asked. "You okay?"

Robbie slowly took his face out of his hand. "I'm always okay. And why would I care which table we sat at, you choose." he said.

"Okay! Hm..." Sportacus thought for a moment. "How about the one right under the window, the middle one? Is that good?" he suggested.

"I don't really care." replied Robbie.

"Fair enough, it is just a table." Sportacus said. They went to sit down, and an employee approached them.

"Hi, I'm Catriona, I'll be your waitress today!" she said in an unusually high voice for a girl clearly in her late teens or very early twenties, setting some menus down on the table. "Wave me over when you've made your choice." She smiled again and turned around, walking away.

"You'll be the one doing that." Robbie told Sportacus. "Right," he muttered aloud to himself, "how much is the double cheese?" He moved his finger down the menu. Aha! Plain pizza, $12, $15 with extra cheese. Well, Sportacus was paying, and he seemed, at least to Robbie, to have infinite money, with all that fuel his airship needed to stay off the ground.

"I'm going to get a green pepper pizza! You?" Sportacus said excitedly. "Wow, it's been so long since I've had pizza! I'm looking forward to it!" he grinned.

"Plain double cheese." Robbie stated. Sportacus looked down the menu.

"That makes $31 for the main courses then! Are you going to get a drink?" he said.

"Just a soda. I don't care which."

"Robbie, you have to choose!" Sportacus said. Robbie was surprised and relived that he wasn't lecturing him about the dangers of drinking too much soda.

"Fine, fine. I'll get cola." Robbie decided.

"I'm just going to get water, since it's important to stay hydrated, naturally!" smiled Sportacus.

"Typical. We can order now, right?" Robbie checked.

"Yep! I'll go get the waitress." Sportacus said, standing and walking over to where she was talking to a family of three a couple of tables away.

"Thank you, I'll take your order to the kitchen in just a moment." she told the parents. "Yes?" she asked Sportacus, "Are you ready to order?" Sportacus nodded. "I'll be with you at your table shortly!" she said brightly, and he turned around, walking back to Robbie.

"The waitress is coming over in a minute," Sportacus let Robbie know, adding, "I'll tell her your order, don't worry." Sure enough, the waitress, Catriona, hurried back, carrying a small notepad in one hand.

"Sorry about that! What would you two like?" she asked them.

"Not a problem!" said Sportacus, "I'll have a sugar-free green pepper pizza, with water, and Robbie will have a plain pizza with extra cheese, and cola." he told her.

"Sure!" she said, scribbling down something in the notepad, "Just to let you know, it might take a little longer for your order to arrive if you're getting it without sugar. I hope that's alright!" she let him know.

"That's fine, we don't mind! Right?" Sportacus said. Robbie nodded. The waitress smiled again and left with their order.

"She was pretty professional, for a kid." commented Robbie.

"She's not a kid, Robbie! If she was, she'd be in school!" Sportacus responded.

"Whatever." They sat in silence for a while, not an awkward silence, at least no more awkward than any encounter Robbie had with Sportacus, or indeed anyone. It was almost companionable, however little Robbie wanted to admit it to himself.

~

"So..." Sportacus said, "Could you stand some small talk?" He was bored, if he was to be honest, and despite how much he wanted Robbie to be comfortable, he just wanted to talk to him.

"I mean, I guess I could..." Robbie said shyly.

"So, then. How are you feeling?" Sportacus asked.

"Honestly, way, way better than I would be if you hadn't shown up this morning. Who knew that spending a morning with you, Lazy Town's resident flippity-floppity, would make me happy!" Robbie replied somewhat embarrassedly, but sincerely. "I mean, haha! Just kidding! It's just... taken my mind off it! Happy, what am I talking about, haha! And now I'll give the brats cake and make them lazy!" Sportacus could tell Robbie was trying to laugh off what he had previously said. He was obviously uncomfortable in Sportacus knowing he was happy talking to him, which Sportacus totally understood.

"Haha, you got me!" Sportacus said, playing along. Thankfully he caught sight of Catriona bringing their food, which would obviously break up the awkward moment. "Look, the food's here!" he told Robbie.

"I'm so sorry, I have to ask!" she burst out as she put their food and drinks down on the table. "Um, are you here on a date? If so, I just want to say you're a really cute couple!" she finished, grinning apologetically. _I wish_ , Sportacus thought to himself. Robbie went as red as the tomato on his pizza, covering his face in embarrassment, and Sportacus just shook his head, smiling. He could feel himself blushing as well.

"No, we aren't. Don't worry about my, um, friend here, he has social anxiety, so he gets embarrassed easily, in social situations. You haven't offended him, at least I doubt it." Sportacus said, smiling at her, reassuringly.

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry! Is he alright? I assume he probably doesn't want me to talk directly to him, if he's got social anxiety." she asked nervously. Sportacus nodded.

"Yeah, that's right." He turned his attention to Robbie. "Are you going to be alright, Robbie? Do you need to leave for a minute, go to the bathroom or something?" he asked.

"Don't you remember?" Robbie replied harshly, "I. Am. Always. Okay."

"Oh, by the way sir, sorry I didn't get your name, the thing on your shirt, with the ten on it, it's beeping!" Catriona told him.

"Oh no... not right now..." Ziggy was in trouble. Nothing major, he'd just dropped his school exercise book into the mud. Sportacus was too far away to do anything about it, the school was on the other side of Big Town, but he'd be plagued with visions for the next few minutes, making it acutely difficult to concentrate on pizza, conversation or anything else.

"Well... I'll leave you to it then." she said. "I, err, hope you enjoy your meal!" and scurried off.

Sportacus dizzily took a sip of his water, trying his best to blink the visions away. A flash of pink and blue, and Stephanie was kneeling by Ziggy, helping him brush the wet mud off his book. _She really is a great kid,_ Sportacus thought happily, _I'm glad Ziggy has a friend like her._ And just like that, the image stopped and he could see clearly again. Robbie seemed to be alright, wolfing his pizza down, and Sportacus cut a thin slice of his own. It smelled wonderful, and the peppers on top were cooked perfectly. He folded it up, stabbed it with a fork, and popped it into his mouth. Delicious!

"Never thought I'd live to see the day you'd actually eat junk food." Robbie laughed, "Not that I thought I'd live past this morning to be honest."

"It's not really junk food, and besides, it is okay to eat junk food- every once in a while!" Sportacus told him.

"Every once in a while, huh? I'm sure for you that means every once in a decade." Robbie said jokingly.

"Once in a year, more like. Although it's been longer than that since I've had pizza specifically." Sportacus replied.

"I was joking!"

"I know, but still." Sportacus said, "So, are you enjoying yours?" he asked, taking another slice.

"Mhhm," Robbie was in the middle of a mouthful, but Sportacus was pretty sure that was a yes. "It's good, yeah." he said.

"Good to hear! I'm glad you did decide we would get pizza, there's no way I would have thought to do this if you hadn't!" Sportacus exclaimed.

"I still can't quite believe that you like a junk food." Robbie said. He took a long sip of his soda and Sportacus watched the glass drain by almost half. Robbie coughed, probably from the bubbles, and drank the rest in one gulp.

"It's not really junk food, I said already! It's not healthy, sure, but it's not particularly unhealthy." Sportacus defended. He ate another slice of pizza. "Need to find out where these peppers are from," he stopped, not wanting to chew with his mouth open, "they're really good..." He stopped, and looked up from his food. There was Robbie, chewing on the last slice of his pizza, oblivious to the cheese dribbling out the corner of his mouth. _Oh no you don't Sportacus._ he told himself sternly. _Do not let your thoughts go there. Do not think about how that more than just kind of looks like- dammit._ He let his thoughts go there, and let his face go an embarrassed red.

"What?" Robbie asked grumpily.

"N-nothing. Nothing!" Sportacus covered up.

"I don't believe you, but I'll go with it."

"Thanks."

"No problem. Right then, I'm finished. You nearly done?" Robbie said, looking at Sportacus's pizza. "You've got loads left! Hurry up!"

"Okay, okay!" Sportacus said, stuffing another two slices into his mouth at a time. He chewed them, swallowed and took a sip of water. "I'm full now."

"You have almost half a pizza left! And you're just going to leave it? You're crazy!" Robbie told him.

"It's fine, I can pay for it! I just don't want any more!"

"Weirdo..." Robbie muttered.

"I'll go get the bill then." Sportacus decided, setting his knife and fork parallel on his plate, and getting up to find their waitress. He saw her bringing food to a couple across the restaurant, and approached her. She set the food down and turned to face him.

"Are you ready for the bill?" she asked.

"Yeah, thanks." Sportacus replied.

"Okay, great. You can go back to your seat, I'll be right over!" she said, smiling at him. Sportacus nodded, and went back to the table.

"I honestly think this is the most I've seen you walk in a day, Sportaflip. Wasn't even sure if you could!" Robbie said, laughing.

"And I honestly think this is the most I've seen you laugh in a day!" Sportacus responded, biting his lip slightly and smiling. "And to think, just this morning you wanted to kill yourself. I'm just glad you're alright."

"Trust me on this one, I still want to, I'm just laughing at the same time." Robbie said, laughing again.

"Look, here comes the waitress! Nearly time to make that cake!" he grinned excitedly.

"Sorry for the delay!" the waitress apologised, "I had some trouble finding a working card reader."

"Oh, sorry for the trouble but I'll be paying cash if that's alright!" Sportacus said.

"Yeah, that's fine." she let him know. He checked the receipt, nodded, reaching into the cavity in his left gauntlet, and with a little elven summoning magic, pulled out $32, and a second later, a $6.40 tip.

"Twenty percent." he told her. "Robbie, you want to chip in a dollar?" he asked.

"Why not," Robbie decided, pulling out his wallet and putting a dollar on top of Sportacus's tip-pile. "Wait staff don't get paid enough these days."

"Thank you, Robbie, and thank you- sorry, I still haven't gotten your name!" she said.

"Oh, I'm Sportacus! Nice to meet you!" he told her.

"And thank you Sportacus!" she finished. "May I ask, before you leave, where you're from? I really like your accent, but I can't quite place it."

"I'm from Iceland!" Sportacus said. He decided not to go into any more detail, he didn't want anyone else finding out he was an elf, especially not some girl he'd just met, however friendly she was.

"That's really cool! Well, I'll hopefully see you guys around, nice talking to you!" Catriona said, pocketing the tips and picking up the rest, then walked off towards the till, to put the money for the meal in there. They got up from their chairs, and Sportacus took the last sip of his water.

"Right then, it's cake time!" Sportacus said, grinning like a child, and pulling Robbie by his cuff out the door.

"Ouch! What did you do that for?" Robbie complained, "You do realise I was leaving anyways!"

"Well, yeah, but I need us to get into the field quickly, it's been too long since I've done any sort of acrobatics and it's stressing me out a little." Sportacus explained.

"Of course. It's always the flippity-floppity."

"True." Sportacus replied, and they set off towards the airship, which he could see from where they were, at a slightly faster pace than Robbie seemed to be comfortable with. They continued speed-walking down road after road, until they reached the the field Sportacus had parked on. There was a small child, walking with a woman, probably his mother, and had pulled her to a halt to look at the airship.

"Can't I spend a day without running into a kid?" Robbie complained to no-one in particular. Sportacus ignored him, and strode towards the awestruck boy.

"Do you like my airship?" he asked.

"Wow! Is't really yours?" the child replied.

"Yes, it is! I'm glad you like it!" Sportacus said. He was used to people, usually children, approaching him for his costume or airship, in fact he enjoyed it. Seeing the kids' faces light up at the sight of him, although they had no idea who he was, always made his day.

"Okay, well, I'm sure this nice man has places to be now, in his airship," the woman told her son, "so say goodbye!"

"Bye-bye blue man!" he gargled, waving. Sportacus waved back, and opened the door of the airship, gesturing for Robbie to come over from the distance away he was standing. He did so, and scrambled up inside. Sportacus jumped up after him. Robbie sat down in the corner, gripping the wall so as not to slip, and Sportacus jumped onto his hands, held it for a moment then flipped back onto his feet. That felt better! He flipped over to the seat, and strapped himself in, and putting the bag of shopping on his lap.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

"Sure, step on it." Robbie replied. They sat in silence for a while, Sportacus peddling away, and neither said another word until they were around halfway there, when Robbie looked up at Sportacus to ask a question.

"So, since we're almost ready to start the cake- how are we going to decorate it?" he asked him.

"Nothing too crazy," Sportacus answered, not turning around since he was focusing on moving the airship, but still trying to show he was interested in the conversation, "since frosting and toppings have a lot of sugar in them, maybe just frosting on top?"

"Ah, well, if you don't want anything crazy then plain frosting might be all we can do." Robbie said.

"Look!" Sportacus exclaimed, pointing out the window, "Lazy Town's just down there!" He angled the airship's trajectory to land right by Robbie's lair, unclipped his seatbelt, and jumped out of his seat. "Door!" he called, just as it came to a stop. Robbie got up, and stumbled to the door, luckily without falling over, and dropped out the door. Sportacus opened his sportscandy fridge, grabbed an apple, closed it up and followed Robbie out the door, gripping the plastic shopping bag in his other hand. Robbie insisted he would enter the lair first, so Sportacus let him, waiting a minute or two for Robbie to reach the floor inside, and quickly climbed down in a quarter of the time. He dropped gracefully down onto the chair and bit into his apple.

"Right then," Robbie said, "hand the stuff over and we can get started."

"Here!" Sportacus grinned, getting up from the chair, sticking the arm holding the bag out and taking another bite of the apple. "But, you have to promise not to put in any lazy magic, okay?"

"Just this once," Robbie said, "but I can't make any promises for next time. I am a villain, remember?"

"I'll never forget it." Sportacus chuckled. After this morning's events, he was beginning to question whether Robbie actually hated him or not, and what exactly that might mean. Did he maybe even have a chance with his alleged nemesis? Probably not, but Robbie not hating him was more than he could ask for. Sportacus blinked himself back to reality, and noticed Robbie had already disappeared into the kitchen, and so jogged in after him, taking another bite of apple on his way.

"Okay Robbie, so, now we do have to choose a tin, so I'll get them down." Robbie told him, and opened a high-up cupboard behind him. He shakily pulled them out by the far too large for cake bottom tin, wobbling and stepping back as they reached halfway out of the cupboard.

"I'd offer to help, but I don't think I'd be able to reach!" Sportacus laughed, moving out of the way as Robbie stepped back again, almost dropping the tins as the support of the cupboard dropped out from under them. Robbie put them down on the counter, panting.

"So, this one-" He picked up a tin, putting it to the side, "this one," he did the same with a second tin, "and this one," he moved a third, "are all going to melt if we put them in the oven. So let's not do that." he said.

"All the ones that look like an alright size for a cake, of course. Which is the smallest out of the ones we can use?" Sportacus asked.

"Err, that would be this one-" Robbie lifted up an average sized tin.

"Great! So, what's the first step?"

"Preheat the oven to 350°." Robbie instructed.

"What? Won't that burn the cake? And the house, probably." Sportacus exclaimed, confused. "Wait... Okay no, never mind. That makes sense." he realised.

"See where the time is on the clock?" Robbie checked, "It's the knob on the left of it, twist it right. The temperature comes up on top." he instructed. Sportacus nodded, stepping over to the oven and twisting the knob until the display read 350°.

"This is great!" Robbie grinned, "I'm going to just sit here, tell you the recipe, and you're going to make the cake!" He sat down on the dining table, pushing empty coffee cups, magazines, and other assorted things off the table, luckily none of which broke, stretching his legs out and leaning back on the wall.

"Um, sure, I guess! Just don't expect it to be any good." Sportacus agreed. "What do I do now?"

"Grease the tin with butter and line it." Robbie answered.

"Line it with what?" Sportacus asked.

"Baking paper. In there." Robbie pointed at a draw underneath the oven.

"Right." Sportacus opened the draw and pulled the roll of baking paper out. He set it down on the counter, and opened the fridge to get out the already opened packet of butter. He peeled the paper off of it, and began rubbing the unsoftened lump on the inside of the tin.

"No no no!" Robbie swung his legs off the table and strode over to move the tin away from Sportacus. "You have to let it soften first! You're hopeless!" he grumbled.

"How do I do that?" asked Sportacus.

"Wow, you really can't cook, can you Sportaflop?"

"Yes I can! Just... not cake!" Sportacus retorted.

"What's the point knowing how to cook things other than cake?" Robbie questioned. "How about you use the butter we bought today, since it'll have softened, and we save this for the frosting." he suggested.

"Good idea!" Sportacus smiled, picking the new butter out of the plastic bag and opening it up. "How much?" he asked.

"Just like... not much? Cut some, and show it to me."

"Okay, Robbie!" Sportacus said, and cut off a bit of butter. "So, do I just put it on the tray like I did before?"

"Yeah, and that should be enough. I'll go back to relaxing now." Robbie replied, sitting back up on the table. Sportacus awkwardly spread the butter far too thickly all over the base of the cake tin, having absolutely no idea how to do any one of the steps towards making a cake.

"Am I done yet?" Sportacus checked.

"You are not. Actually, you know what, it's stressing me out watching you be such a hopeless failure that you can't even grease a cake tin that I'm going to-" Robbie again got up off of the table and crossed the room to him, "I'm going to do it for you. For the kids' sake. I mean, I'm not against some good ol' child poisoning, but if it puts my reputation as someone who can bake a damn cake on the line, that's a no." he explained.

"I'm sure my cake wouldn't poison the children!" Sportacus defended.

"Whatever, it's certainly poisoning my eyes watching you. Hand the baking paper." Robbie ordered, and Sportacus did so. He grabbed a pair of scissors and a pencil, as. put the tin on top. Sportacus watched, confused. What was he doing? Robbie drew around the tin with his pencil, opened the scissors and used the edge of one blade to cut the circle away from the rest of the paper. He lifted the tin, and pushed away the excess paper. He tore off some more paper and used it to shield his hands from the butter as he, this time properly, greased the tin. He finished up the butter and put the cutout inside the tin.

"Wow, Robbie, you're really good at this!" Sportacus praised.

"Comes with practice. I need a mixing bowl, there's one in the sink I haven't gotten round to washing yet." Robbie said.

"You're asking me to wash it, right Robbie?" Sportacus checked.

"I am."

"Well, I'm happy to help in any way I can, if you won't let me bake." Sportacus smiled. He looked into the sink, spotting a large-ish purple mixing bowl with a little dried cake mix in it. He held it up. "This one?" he said.

"Yeah, that one." Robbie said. He opened the draw he kept the sugar in and picked up an already opened bag. Sportacus ran warm water into the bowl, and using a cloth that was lying over the faucet, he wiped the inside to remove the old cake mix.

"Robbie, do you have any soap? It's not hygienic to put ingredients in this if it's not been washed with soap!" Sportacus asked concernedly.

"Oh, um yeah I do, it's not in here though. I'll go get it." Robbie replied awkwardly. Sportacus waited expectantly and sure enough, after a while Robbie was back carrying a soap dispenser. "It's not dish soap, but it'll do, right?" he checked.

"Dish soap would be good, but yeah that's better than nothing." Sportacus confirmed. Robbie handed it to him, and he emptied some onto the cloth. He cleaned the bowl until he was sure it was as hygienic to cook out of as it possibly could be.

"You done yet, Sportaslow?" Robbie asked, exasperated.

"Almost, I just need to dry it. Give me a minute." Sportacus replied, and did just that. He handed the bowl over to Robbie, proudly.

"Took you long enough." Robbie commented. He had already got out a weighing scale, and dropped the entire lump of butter into the bowl. "It's a little bit less, since you cut some off to grease it, but can I be bothered to cut a teeny tiny sliver off the other pack? No." he said nonchalantly. He pressed a button, which set the weight on the display to zero, and poured in what looked to be, at least to Sportacus, to be an obscene amount of sugar.

"Robbie, are you sure that's not too much sugar? Be careful!" Sportacus exclaimed worriedly, not even really wanting a pinch of it in there.

"Yes. I bake enough to know what I'm doing." Robbie replied.

"It just... it looked like a lot of sugar, that's all." Sportacus explained sheepishly.

"Any amount of sugar is a lot of sugar for you, Sportaflop, so leave it to the experts." Robbie told him.

"If you say so." Sportacus said, still worried it would be too much for the poor kids. Robbie grabbed a wooden spoon from a draw near to where he was standing and began mixing the butter and sugar together in the bowl. He was obviously struggling with it, but Sportacus figured an offer of help would be met with harsh denial. So he let Robbie stir away, looking at him with a combination of slight sadness and adoration, while his focus was on the bowl rather than him. His mind cleared, until all he could think about was Robbie's pale face, scrunched up in passionate concentration and thankfully oblivious to Sportacus's staring.

"And... done!" Robbie announced, turning to face Sportacus. He quickly moved his eyes. "Next, eggs. Hold the bowl still, will you?" he instructed.

"Of course Robbie, I'm always happy to help!" Sportacus agreed, holding it steady on the counter. Robbie reached into the bag, and took out the carton of eggs, opening it and picking up the first. He cracked it expertly on the side of the bowl, pried it open with his thumbs and let the insides drop into the bowl. He stirred the egg in, luckily without near as much difficulty as he previously had, and cracked a second one, stirred it in, a third, stirred it in and after what felt like no time at all, a fourth.

"Right. You can, um, let go of the bowl now." Robbie said awkwardly, and Sportacus did so. Robbie reached down to grab the bag of flour and set it on the counter. He put the bowl on the scale, hit the same button he had before, and tipped just in enough flour, and a spoonful of baking powder.

"We need to put milk in, right?" Sportacus asked.

"Just getting to it." Robbie said. He lifted the milk from the bag, dribbled a little in the bowl. "Stick that in the fridge." he ordered. Sportacus took the milk off him and swung the door open, putting it carefully inside, in the same place he had found it when making the coffee that morning. Robbie opened a cupboard and took out a bottle of vanilla extract, and poured a little in too. He gave the mixture one last stir and tipped it into the cake tin, before proclaiming;

"Okay it goes in the oven now- twenty-five minutes."

"I'll open it for you!" Sportacus grinned, and pulled the lower oven door open. Robbie stepped over to the oven, carrying the tin in his bare hands. "Careful, Robbie!" Sportacus exclaimed, "Don't you have oven-mitts?"

"Nope." Robbie said, and pushed the tin into the oven as if the heat was nothing. He pressed a few buttons on the top, and shut the door. "There. It'll start beeping in twenty-five minutes, don't confuse it for your crystal or anything."

"What are we going to do in the meantime then Robbie?" Sportacus asked.

"I don't know about you, but it's been over four hours and I'm ready for some coffee. So I'll be doing that." Robbie answered, turning around to get some instant coffee grounds.

"Okay! I'm going to go up and run around for a bit, I'll be back in five minutes." Sportacus told him, and added hastily, "Please don't hurt yourself while I'm gone."

"Uh-huh..." Robbie mumbled, nodding slowly, his back still turned.

"Well, see you in a minute!" Sportacus called over his shoulder as he dabbed and sprinted out of the kitchen towards the exit. He pulled himself up the ladder and into the glorious sunshine.

~

"I'm back!" Robbie heard Sportacus shout just after the dull thud of him dropping from the end of the chute into the soft chair echoed into the kitchen. A few footsteps later and he was standing in the doorway, watching Robbie quietly sip on the steadily cooling coffee. He lifted his hand to wave at Sportacus, and after swallowing the sip of coffee he had just taken, said;

"Uh, the cake'll be ready in five or ten I think. You were out there for longer than five minutes, that's for sure."

"Oh. Sorry about that!" Sportacus apologised. "Now I've gone for my run, and you have your coffee, should we start on the frosting now or when the cake is cooling?" he asked.

"I guess now?" Robbie said dubiously, taking another sip of his sugary coffee, "I don't think it really matters." he decided.

"So... how exactly do you make frosting?" Sportacus asked.

"It's in the same draw you got the cake recipe from, either the sixth or seventh down." Robbie let him know. "Give it a read if you're curious, but don't talk to me until I've finished my coffee, okay?" he instructed. Sportacus nodded, and began rifling through the papers in the pile to find the right one. Robbie sighed. He loathed to admit it, even to himself, but the ten-fifteen minutes Sportacus spent outside had reverted him almost entirely back to the wretched state he was in earlier that morning. He had kept it together, knowing Sportacus was probably coming back, but it was still a noticeable shift in mental state he unfortunately felt he didn't have reason to ignore. And that scared him. The truth, impossible to ignore, that the presence of the very man he had not five hours earlier been trying his best to get out of his home was the only thing keeping him mentally stable, scared him.

"There's the same amount of sugar in the frosting as there is in the cake!" Sportacus exclaimed, snapping Robbie back to reality. "Surely there's some mistake!"

"No, that's just the recipe. It's special sugar, so if you used less it'd mess with the consistency." Robbie explained. "So all we'd end up with would be less, watery frosting." he finished.

"I mean, if you say so. I just feel like you could have edited the recipe, and the cake too, so the kids would get sick." Sportacus said worriedly, "But that's probably just because I'm not used to seeing this much sugar at one time." he added.

"Well, that may or may not be why I agreed to make the cake in the first place. But rest assured, I haven't edited the recipes." Robbie let him know. "Also, what did I say about the coffee! I'm not done yet!" He took another sip. "Well, now I am, but still, I told you to wait!"

"Sorry!"

"Yep. Look, the cake has twenty seconds left, I can take it out now." Robbie replied, stepping over to the oven and opening the door. He gripped the edges of the tin with the tips of his fingers, the heat hurt, but he was used to it and didn't drop it as he made his way over to the counter. He rested it on top of the bowl, so that it wouldn't burn the table, and turned around to face Sportacus, brushing his hands together to get rid of the lingering pain in his fingers. Now that his job was done, and he had nothing to distract him, he ended up focusing, actually focusing, on Sportacus's face. He covered his eyes and scrunched up his back.

"Should we start the frosting then?" Sportacus asked, not knowing what he was thinking, but still obviously trying to take his mind off it.

"Oh, um-" Robbie stood back up fully, trying to, as inconspicuously as possible, pretend he'd not done anything. He reminded himself to keep his eyes off Sportacus's face when he was looking. "Yeah. What color would the kids want, you think?" he asked.

"That's a tricky one. They all have different favourite colors, so it wouldn't be inclusive to use any of those, how about we just leave it white?" Sportacus suggested.

"Okay, you're reading too much into this. The others aren't going to get offended if we make it one kid's favourite color. That's toddlers, not eight-year olds." Robbie said.

"Well, Ziggy's six," Sportacus replied, "but I do think we should just leave it plain."

"Okay, okay, we can leave it. But you have to let me put toppings on, or you can expect to be leaving town in the next ten minutes. Forever." Robbie decided, the final word echoing slightly. "Can't stand an ugly cake."

"Where do you keep the toppings then?" Sportacus asked. Robbie didn't say anything, instead opening the draw he knew they were in and taking out a jar each of yellow star shaped candy, silver-balls and rainbow sprinkles.

"This is all I've got right now." he said, showing them to Sportacus, but looking at the counter behind him instead.

"The stars!" grinned Sportacus, "Let's use those!"

"Okay, we can do that." Robbie acknowledged. He put the other two pots back in the draw and closed it. "But we do have to make the frosting first." He grabbed a plastic plate from where he stored them, put it on the scale and set it to zero, then picked up the half-empty pack of butter, folding the paper off it and letting it drop onto the plate. It was a slightly too heavy, but Robbie never really cared if there was too little or too much of an ingredient, if it was such an unsubstantial amount over or under. He set it back to zero, got out the powdered sugar, and began tipping it onto the plate, carefully watching the numbers on the display go up.

"Careful!" Sportacus exclaimed, "It's going to go over the sides! Why did you choose a plate and not a bowl?"

"Shut up, Sportaflop." Robbie hissed. "And don't question me, the one who can actually bake."

"If you say so!"

"I say so." Robbie answered. He actually questioned why he hadn't used a bowl, he would obviously be able to keep it from spilling, but it was still fairly pointless. After mixing the sugar into the butter, he reopened the fridge to take out the milk, which he tipped a small amount of into the almost-frosting. He stirred once, twice, three times, and it was done. He poked at the cake. It had cooled, cooled enough at least.

"Can I spread it, Robbie?" Sportacus asked eagerly, "I want to have helped in some way, at least." he explained.

"If you spread it anything like you spread that butter I'll deflate your airship." Robbie threatened. "As I said, can't stand an ugly cake."

"Okay, Robbie!" Sportacus said, clearly ignoring Robbie's blatant threat, "Any tips?"

"Spread it evenly to begin with, and just cut off blobs, if there even are any, then finish the edges so it's slightly thinner around the rim of the cake. That way it'll look smoother and _not ugly_." Robbie instructed.

"Could you repeat that?"

"Fine, but listen this time. For your air supply's sake."

"Will do." Sportacus chuckled.

"Right. Spread it evenly, give me the cut-off blobs, finish the edges, blah blah blah." Robbie reiterated.

"Sounds easy enough. I need a knife to spread it, though. Where are they?" Sportacus asked.

"You've seen them, right? I mean, you must have! They're right there!" Robbie answered, confused.

"No, no, not those Robbie! They're too sharp for this sort of thing! I mean knives as in the cutlery." Sportacus explained.

"I don't have any of those." Robbie stated.

"Why?" Sportacus asked, seeming slightly shocked.

"You just need forks to eat cake, and spoons to stir coffee. I don't need cutlery knives." Robbie answered bluntly.

"Do you actually only eat cake?" Sportacus's jaw seemed halfway to his knees. Robbie was almost enjoying his comical shock.

"Well, I had pizza today, and I think I had a burger a couple of weeks ago when I couldn't be bothered to bake, but yeah. Pretty much just cake." Robbie told him. Yeah, he was enjoying it.

"How?"

"I don't know!"

"Is it magic?"

"I doubt it!"

"What else could it be?"

"I don't know!"

"Are you sure it's not magic?"

"Pretty sure!"

"Then how?"

"Okay, time to shut up, I guess it could be magic I don't know about, but I don't care right now. Just, spread the damn frosting, Sportagape. There's a butterknife you can probably use in there." Robbie said, putting an end to their one-part awkward, two-parts hilarious conversation. Sportacus nodded, still utterly astounded, and reached for it.

"This?"

"Yes this. You said you wanted to help, so help." Robbie answered. With all the extra-ness he should have expected from him, Sportacus covered the butterknife and began to spread the frosting expertly over the cake, as if he'd had practice. It was almost soothing to watch, something he hadn't noticed before as he was always the one spreading it every other time he's seen it done, and therefore unable to focus on what it looked like. Sportacus really was taking his time about it, though, but the precision was excellent.

"Is that good, Robbie?" Sportacus checked.

"Yeah, actually... When did you learn to do that?" Robbie confirmed.

"I've made a couple of cakes with the kids, and none of them are any where near dexterous enough to do that themselves. So I've had a bit of practice." Sportacus answered.

"Well, next time, get them to teach you how to do the rest, so you learn without putting my reputation as an at least mediocre baker on the line." Robbie told him flatly. "Now, toppings. You want to do that too?"

"Sure! Should I do a pattern, or just put them anywhere?"

"I don't care, it's not for me, is it."

"Okay then, I'll just put them randomly. It'll look nicer in slices." Sportacus decided.

"I don't think that actually matters, but sure. Just leave it when you're done, I'm going to use my computer." Robbie told him, and stalked off. He decided he'd browse his tumblr feed for a while, since he hadn't all day. He picked up his computer, sat down, and had just opened the website up, when Sportacus came jogging into the room. Of course he did.

"I'm done! What are you doing?" he asked, stopping as he approached the chair.

"It's tumblr. You wouldn't like it, go away. Do a press-up or something." Robbie replied.

"No, I'm interested! What's tumble-er?" Sportacus quizzed.

"It's a social network, I guess. Go away."

"Cool! Show me!"

"No."

"Why?"

"No."

"Well, I won't make you, but I'm just curious. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Sportacus apologised seriously.

"Thanks. Hey, when do the brats get back from school?" Robbie asked.

"Around three-thirty." answered Sportacus.

"So that leaves... an hour forty-five of time left to kill." _And there's no way I'm spending an hour forty-five in the same room as Sportacus without a proper distraction_. Robbie thought decidedly to himself. Not a chance.

"Well you shouldn't spend that whole time on your computer, it's bad for you." Sportacus advised.

"Do you actually think I care if it's bad for me?" Robbie asked sarcastically, scrolling through a few humorous text posts.

"Well, I guess you probably don't, but it's still bad for you. You can't deny that." Sportacus replied.

"I can't deny it, but I also can't possibly care any less. So get off my case, alright?"

"Alright." Sportacus agreed. "But I can't do nothing for all that time myself, so what should I do?"

"I'd say go away, but I'm pretty sure that's not what you meant." Robbie said, and thought, _And if I'm left alone, I'll probably end up crying like a baby the entire time._

"No, it's not. I'll be staying right here with you until I know you're alright or Stephanie can take over." Sportacus told him, slightly sternly. "Whichever comes first."

"Not the best idea, but I suppose I can't do anything about it." Robbie was flat-out lying now, not wanting to let on that Sportacus's presence was the only thing keeping him from breaking down into tears. So he kept a brave face, and tried his best to act as indifferent as he wanted Sportacus to see him.

"Fine. I'll let you see my tumblr. Happy?" Robbie gave in.

"Yes, of course Robbie! Um, where do I sit?" he asked dubiously.

"Where do you sit?" Robbie puzzled. "I don't have any other chairs, before you ask."

"I was just about to, actually," Sportacus said. "but that's obviously not an option now."

"Well, I'm not going to help you, this is my computer and if you want to watch, the complications are your problem." Robbie said, turning back to the screen and scrolling a little more. He could feel weight being put on the back of his chair, which he presumed was Sportacus moving around to a place he could see the screen.

"Okay, I can see from here. Don't move your head!" Sportacus exclaimed.

"Yeah, yeah."

"So, what are you reading?"

"Just browsing the funny tag."

"What's a tag?"

"When you make a post, you tag it, and it shows up in those tags. For what you need to know, the creators of all these posts think they're funny. So far, I'm inclined to disagree." Robbie explained to an uncomfortably curious Sportacus.

"Cool!"

"Sure." Robbie replied. They sat like this for a while, Robbie occasionally snickering at the very, very few posts he found funny enough to do so, and Sportacus laughing out loud at almost every single one. It was getting to be rather annoying.

"These are so funny, Robbie! Thank you for letting me watch!" Sportacus smiled, still slightly laughing from the previous post.

"I may have to revoke that privilege if you don't stop laughing so loudly, Sportannoying." Robbie replied.

"Okay! I'll stop then!" Sportacus promised, and somehow, he managed to hold in even the slightest chuckle. They sat like this for a while longer, Robbie still snickering at the very, very, very few posts he found funny, far less than to begin with, and Sportacus suppressing any reaction. Until he didn't. Sportacus began to laugh, twice as hard, at every post they scrolled by.

"I thought you said you'd stop!" Robbie yelped.

"Sorry Robbie, I just, I just couldn't stop myself! It was too funny!" Sportacus wheezed. Robbie glanced at the computer's remaining battery. 6%.

"Okay, you're off the hook this time since the computer needs charging. And-" he checked the time, "we've only got fifteen minutes until the brats get back. It was three-thirty, right?" Robbie checked.

"Yes, that's right." Sportacus confirmed. Robbie got up, computer under his arm, and plugged it into the charger near the table he put it down on. Sportacus had followed him.

"That's the DVD I got with Stephanie yesterday! Is she watching it with you?" Sportacus said, pointing the _Senpai Senpai!_ case Robbie and Stephanie had left by the computer.

"Yeah."

"Is it good?"

"Not really." Robbie wasn't going to let anyone, not even Stephanie know he liked a girly cartoon, and especially not Sportacus.

"Oh."

"She likes it, though."

"That's good."

"Yeah." Robbie stayed quiet for a bit, just standing there over the table.

"Should we just go up, and wait for them, then? There's nothing else to do, really. At least I don't think so. Is there?" Sportacus asked.

Robbie thought about it. No, there wasn't, at least not that they could do in five or ten minutes. "No, there isn't." he said aloud, "So yeah, sure."

"Hopefully we won't have to wait too long." Sportacus agreed. So they left, Robbie carrying the cake in a box, and with little incident or conversation made their way to the sports field, where they knew the kids would head to once they had completed the walk back to Lazy Town. Once Robbie was within distance to even see any of the field, he instantly noticed a speeding pink and blue blob dancing and cartwheeling across his line of sight. Stephanie.

"Stephanie's already there I think, can't imagine that being anyone else." Robbie let Sportacus know.

"That's her!" Sportacus grinned and began to jog. "I'm going to run ahead, to say hi."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You go do that." Robbie said, brushing him off. He would have to pretend to be even more indifferent around Sportacus than he was being already, when he was in front of Stephanie, since if she saw that he'd softened his attitude towards him she wouldn't hesitate to tease him about it. And the giggling. Ugh. He could see that Sportacus was already over there, and Stephanie had stopped moving, so they were probably talking. After a minute or so Robbie was there too, and approached them.

"Hi Robbie!" Stephanie greeted cheerfully, "Is that the cake?" she asked.

"Yeah, it's the cake. You're way earlier than Sportacus said you would be, why's that?" Robbie asked back.

"Oh, my uncle drove me from school, because we had a meeting with the head. About my hair. And guess what?" Stephanie said excitedly.

"What?" Robbie answered, uninterestedly.

"I can keep it! Unless we're having a school inspection, in which case I have to dye it back for a week. Yay!" Stephanie cheered.

"That's, um, great." Robbie replied, adding, "I couldn't see you with hair anything other than pink, honestly."

"Are you going to give her a slice of cake, Robbie?" Sportacus interjected.

"Sure. Want some cake, kid?" Robbie offered.

"Would I ever!" Stephanie replied, grinning, "But not too much, I need to leave room for dinner." she added.

"Help yourself." Robbie set the box down on a bench and opened it, lifting out the cake and resting it on the lid. They had brought the butterknife in a the box alongside the cake, to cut it with, and he handed that to Stephanie. She cut an extremely thin slice, and began daintily nibbling it.

"This is really good!" Stephanie congratulated.

"Don't you... want more? That's not near enough for a serving!" Robbie advised worriedly.

"No, it's fine, I don't need any more right now." Stephanie said, wiping the last few crumbs of cake from her mouth.

"Stephanie! Do you want to play soccer when you've finished your cake?" Sportacus called from a short distance away, a pink soccer ball under his arm.

"I've finished now, and yeah!" Stephanie replied, and added to Robbie, "You're probably not joining in, right?"

He shook his head. "No, I'll just be here eating my cake, and I'll probably leave after the others have all come back and had theirs." Stephanie nodded and skipped off towards Sportacus, who had gone to the soccer goal on the other side of the field. Robbie cut himself an average-sized slice of cake (at least by his own standards), and began to eat it. Stephanie and Sportacus were talking as they kicked the ball to eachother, but about what Robbie couldn't tell, nor did he particularly care. He remembered playing soccer as a child, warming to the idea of it, but royally screwing up when he put it into practice. He didn't let himself dig any deeper into the dangerous box of memories that was his childhood. That was a can of worms for, well, never. Focusing now on his cake, he turned his attention away from the memory, and picked off a few little stars.

"Robbie!" Stephanie called, rushing up to him. "Can Stingy have a slice of cake? He's just got here!"

Robbie hadn't noticed, but sure enough the kid was there, waiting expectantly some distance behind her. "Sure." he replied distantly.

Stingy walked, poised, over to Robbie and asked, "Is this a trap? Are you trying to poison us?"

"Not this time. Look, I'm eating some myself-" he paused to bite into his cake, "and I'm not getting poisoned. Take some, or whatever. I don't actually care."

"Good enough. Besides, this cake is mine!" Stingy said haughtily, and cut himself a small slice. Larger than Stephanie's, but still small. Robbie was perplexed. How could one be content with so little cake? The boy took a bite. "Hm. It really isn't poisoned. Never would have expected that from you, Mr Rotten." he said.

"I guess it's a good thing this town has at least one resident with some amount of respect for my villainous nature." Robbie told him, smiling sarcastically.

"Hmph!" sounded Stingy, turning on his heel and walking back to the soccer game. Weird kid.

After less than thirty wonderful seconds of being left alone eating cake, Pixel and Loud Girl approached for cake. No-one had ever actually said her name in front of him, and he was far too awkward to ask. So Loud Girl it was.

"Pixel's run a scan on Stingy's cake to check for slow-acting poisons, apparently there's none, so give us some!" Loud Girl said rudely.

"It's right there, just take some." Robbie replied bluntly. "We made it for you brats or whatever, so you don't have to ask. In fact, don't. Don't talk to me if you don't have to. Ever."

"I'll take that as a 'talk to me every occasion possible', then." Loud Girl said sweetly, almost tangible cheek bubbling sarcastically from her words.

"Hey, turn it down a notch! You don't want to be mean, or you won't get any cake next time!" Pixel told her, trying his best to calm her down.

"Then I'll just steal some!" she laughed, sticking her tongue out. Weird kids.

They took their share of cake and walked too back to the game. _She'd steal it, huh_. Robbie thought, _Maybe this kid's not so terrible after all? Doubt it though_. He had just finished the last of his cake slice, and was just about to leave, when sounded an annoying, high-pitched cry of:

"I SMELL CAKE!!" from- Robbie turned slightly to the right to see that the squealing ball of energy speeding towards him, or rather his cake, was Ziggy. "C'n I have some, huh?" he screeched excitedly.

"Whatever."

"That's a yes, huh?"

"Whatever." Robbie hated this kid more than all the others combined.

"'Kay, I'm gonna think yes." Ziggy decided, and sloppily cut half of the remaining cake, stuffing it into his mouth in three bites. And it had taken Robbie five or ten minutes to finish slightly less. Wow, impressive. "Th'nk you Robbie!" Ziggy giggled, mouth full of cake crumbs.

"That's Mr Rotten to you, brat." Robbie retorted. Ziggy just laughed again and ran off, chewing vigorously on his cake. Weird kid.

Well, now all the kids had gotten their cake, he didn't have to stay here any longer. So he stood up, and put the quarter of cake there was left back into the box, and picked it up. He had walked not fifty feet from the bench when he heard footsteps pattering up behind him, and felt a tap on his shoulder. He spun around.

"What now? I'm leaving!"

Stephanie dropped down from her position high on her tip-toes. "Sportacus saw you leaving, he wants to know if you're alright with him staying here for a bit." she told him.

"Yes, yes, fine. Tell him I'll be fine for the rest of the day, tell him not to go find me. I've had enough Sportaflop for probably the rest of my life." he answered dryly.

"Okay!" Stephanie chirped. "I'll see you at dinner, then, to watch _Senpai Senpai!_?"

"You're bringing your dinner?" Robbie was sure she hadn't told him this. "Just, don't bring any vegetables, okay? No vegetables in my house."

"Okaaay..." Stephanie sighed, pseudo-disappointedly.

"Well, I'm off. And if Sportacus shows up at my home, I'm holding you personally responsible." Robbie chuckled. Stephanie waved and ran off back to her friends. Robbie continued on his way back to his lair, still laughing a little. Weird kids, the lot of them.

**Author's Note:**

> The waitress Catriona is a cameo of an OC my friend Megan has, since she's writing a story in which said character babysits Stephanie. Catriona will be returning at a later date to do just that! ^u^
> 
> also - I wrote the bit where Robbie Sportacus used the computer to pass time without actually skipping time and making a new chapter (since I didn't want to change POV) - Robbie you're getting more relatable by the second!
> 
> Thanks for reading ^u^
> 
> P.S. I will be explaining where Sportacus gets his money from, but I didn't feel it really fit here very well.


End file.
